


What Happens in Melee

by alethiometry



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Background Relationships, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alethiometry/pseuds/alethiometry
Summary: Just because Gilfoyle’s confiding in Dinesh doesn't mean he can't also make it as uncomfortable as possible.





	What Happens in Melee

**Author's Note:**

> I may not contribute as much overt smut to our lovely S.S. Hallfoyle as I'd ideally like to, but I sure as fuck love writing about the other guys finding out.
> 
> Also, when did we establish that video games always play some key element in Hallfoyle storytelling? Because I'm into it.

“Monica and I are fucking.”

Dinesh recoils so violently at the sudden confession that he almost drops his controller. Gilfoyle takes the opportunity to land a killing blow, sending Dinesh’s Captain Falcon careening off the stage. The little sprite goes spinning into the distance, then disappears with a wink of light as the game is called and his Princess Peach does a victory dance across the screen. Dinesh gapes at Gilfoyle, who smirks and takes a swig of his beer. Melee is the fucking best.

“Are you— What—  _ How _ —”

“Are you broken?”

“Fuck you. Wait, are you and Monica actually fucking? Or were you just playing dirty ‘cause I was kicking your ass?”

“Oh, I'm definitely playing dirty,” Gilfoyle says breezily as he picks a new character to play. Maybe Jigglypuff, just to mess with Dinesh’s head some more. “Just not with you.”

“You're disgusting,” Dinesh mutters. He chooses Samus for next round, then busies himself double-checking the match parameters. All in all, he's taking this news a lot better than Gilfoyle thought he would. 

They play like this all morning—four-stock, Final Destination, no items or repeat characters—pausing only for snack and beer breaks or to hit the can. Dinesh doesn't bring up the Monica thing the entire time, which could either be a nice acknowledgment of one of their few unspoken rules—what’s said during a Melee match is strictly confidential—or a sign that his brain has just completely melted. Gilfoyle hopes it's the latter. The former would just be fucking weird, even if Dinesh is still the only one who knows about his and Tara’s (extremely amicable, but also extremely definitive) breakup a couple months back. That hadn't been a big deal, and neither was his confession just now. It's been getting irksome thinking of more and more excuses for why he's out of the house more than usual these past few weeks, that's all. There are only so many fake Satanist meetups and Tinder dates he can contrive before Dinesh is onto him, so he figures it’s best to just head him off at the pass.

But it's not anybody else’s fucking business, either.

Richard, Jared, and Bighead join them at some point, the latter two mostly watching, Richard trying his hand at a few rounds. He's not bad with Ganondorf, actually; when he traps Gilfoyle’s Luigi and Dinesh’s Sheik and finishes them both off in a single blow, Gilfoyle has to admit he's pretty impressed.

“How do you even do it?” Dinesh asks a little later, when the others finally fuck off to… wherever. Gilfoyle hadn't been paying very much attention.

“Do what?”

Dinesh rolls his eyes. “You know what. Land chicks like Tara and Monica. They're so fucking out of your league.”

“I think you can guess how. Would you like a demonstration?” Gilfoyle offers nonchalantly, like it's no different than showing Dinesh how he's squashed a bug in his code. “My room, five minutes. Bring that bottle of chocolate syrup in the cupboard.”

He relishes the way Dinesh’s eyes widen in horror.

“Fuck—no.  _ No. _ ”

“Thought so. Pussy.”

“S-shouldn't it be  _ maple _ syrup? You know…” Dinesh falters lamely, “‘cause you're… Canadian?”

“Hilarious.” Gilfoyle’s phone buzzes, and he glances at the thumbnail of the photo text alert to see an extremely nude Monica sprawled luxuriously on those nice satin bedsheets that he begrudgingly loves, already strapped into the garishly pink dildo she’d told him she’d ordered last week. He finishes his beer in two large gulps to soothe his suddenly-parched throat and hastily slides his phone back into his pocket, doing his best to quell the heat that's already building in his groin.

They're going to have a serious talk about security and privacy tonight, Gilfoyle thinks, although he'd be lying if he said the risk of getting hacked or somebody (Dinesh) looking at his phone didn't make it that much more fun. Maybe he’ll hack together a totally encrypted platform for… antics like this. Like Snapchat, but without the data mining. And maybe it can be for just the two of them. He likes the sound of that.

He gets up, tossing his controller onto the couch. “Alright, I'm off to Monica’s. She's got some new hardware for me to test out, if you know what I mean.” He winks again, his grin wide and wolffish. “Don't wait up, Dinesh.”

“Fuck off, Gilfoyle.”

“Gladly,” Gilfoyle replies as he grabs his jacket and keys, unwilling to keep Monica waiting any longer.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone cares, [here's a semi-coherent write-up I did on each character's play style/character of choice in Super Smash Bros. Melee.](http://alethiometry.tumblr.com/post/174040892537)


End file.
